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"My thanks to the Host, then. So, we're still under attack?" The fortune teller seems oddly calm. "Did anyone bring my weapon? If not, no matter. I have a spare blade I keep hidden."
A small sphere composed of pure chaos called "Earth"
Gender:
Re: Remnants of Cyre <Team Two>
Still in the main room of the tavern and listening to the repeating pulse of undead hammering on the doors, Meantooth grows ever more restless, pondering his situation whilst piling more pieces of furniture on the crude barricade.
[goblin]How is it that the great shaman-king Meantooth is reduced to sitting helpless in a tavern, waiting to be beset by a crowd of the walking dead?[/goblin] He thinks. [goblin]Never since my salvaging days have I been reduced to being a victim.[/goblin]
As he glances about the room, Yezt's gaze settles upon the limp figures of his fallen allies. [goblin]Truely, this situation seems hopeless,[/goblin] he considers, eying the ceiling and imagining the safety which lies beyond on the rooftop. For what seems like an eternity guilt and remorse hang upon his face and his spiritual vestments begin to glow...
"No!" he barks, extinguishing the glow of his blink shirt. [goblin]These two wouldn't run away, so if I did what kind of beast-lord would I be?[/goblin] He thinks to himself, walking over to take a stand by his fallen allies and sneering defiantly at the front door as it shivers under a rain of blows. Just then Morris reenters the main room along with a woman- Yezt stares dumbfounded as she walks over, reviving Zin and Jak'haa.
Suddenly realizing that someone may be watching him, Yezt quickly recomposes himself, puffing up his chest and yelling in common at his fellow zombie-slayers. "Finally waken, you are??? Well good! Meantooth was about to leave you for dead if you slept much longer!"
Despite his brash behavior, the goblin shaman is obviously a little bit embarrassed.
__________________ Many thanks to Ceika for the awesome avatar!
The woman does what she can for the wounded man, but after expending most of her abilities on Ja'hkaa and Zin the most she can do is stabilize his condition.
Morris climbs drags the bed over underneath the trapdoor, and opens it up. The space above is dark and foreboding, although considering whats outside its as welcome as the sight of home.
"Hey guys I am going to check this space out to see if might work as a place to hide. Anyone have a light source and some rope for me to tie up hear to help others get up?"
Spoiler
Not if it is a climb check or something like a str check to see if Morris can pull himself up into the attic. climb - (1d20)[17]
__________________ Freeman Forest in Auromar, The Blasted Continent Mo In the Remnants of Cyre
Three foul befanged mouths ripping into his flesh. His dagger hanging limp in a hand bloody and bruised. Hot arterial blood spurting from gashes on his neck. Cold pain as he is eaten alive.
His vision blurs. The rage fades. The pain dims.
The breath of death washes over him. The doors of Dolurrh open, the maw of the sepulchre gapes wide in undying hunger for yet another soul.
Silvern suffering. Burning bliss.
Suddenly, the being that was once a goblin named Ja'khaa opens his eyes and sees not the darkness of Dolurrh. He opens his eyes to see an everlasting day, an undying Flame.
Beyond, below, all around, there swirl threads of shadow and of darkness, seething with malice. The sulfurous fumes of Khyber and the choking reek of Xoriat tremble at the touch of the Flame, but still they hold their claws poised above the heart of the world, beyond the Flame's purifying tongues.
Ja'khaa feels his very essence dissolving into the
Dur, my love, I come for you at last. Please forgive me. I wasn't able to protect you... His voice, silvern smoke, drifts from lips that only he can now but faintly feel.
The firestorm whose pulse beats around him and through him rumbles in spirit and in song. The voice of his wife, more fair than ever in mortality he heard her, reaches forth from the chorus of the righteous.
Their lips meet for the briefest instant and his throat burns. Thy sinew and steel, thy righteous rage--- these the Flame more needs than thy soul-strength. If ye love me true, then begone from a nameless grave and live thy life! Her now-sewrpentine song sears itself in his ears and he recoils with the anguish that only a lover sundered from his beloved can know.
"NYAAARRRGHH-ack-ack!"
((Sorry. Still TO-BE-CONTINUED... in next post.))
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Hey, you. Yes, you. Come on. SMILE.
Ja'khaa's vision suddenly flares with newfound sight, the sudden light burning and blurring. Strength drains away, to be replaced by salvation. A thousand sensations rip through his consciousness all at once.
Slowly, the goblin becomes able to discern patches of light--- from the warmth of tallow candles to the coolness of magefired lanterns. The distant stars sigh through seemingly leaden windows.
Hard wooden planking groans beneath his back as he shifts his position... or tries to. The coldness of the night jabs at him through the rips in his leathern armour, biting with the blunt heads of the floor's rusted nails.
Togg. Tog-tog. Bogg! Sounds of an irregular thumping and scraping reach his ears. The smells of blood and sweat and rot rankly his nostrils.
Ja'khaa's vision has yet to clear when his blood suddenly runs cold and his heart stops in his throat.
((DRAT! TO BE CONTINUED YET AGAIN! SORRY!))
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Hey, you. Yes, you. Come on. SMILE.
(While Ja'khaa finishes his character development, I may as well post what Morris sees.)
In the dim light coming from the room below, Morris can make out some of the features of the space. The attic area is a wide wooden platform laid over the rafters running along the center of the building. Towards the eaves, the platform disapears, leaving the plaster of the cieling below exposed. The place is dusty, as though it hasn't been used in years. Oddments of furniture and a few boxes are scattered around, as though brought up here and abandoned.
The changeling leans to the side of the bed and plants both feet on the ground. With a small groan, he stands. Walking to the room Morris entered, he calls, "So, anything up there?"
A small sphere composed of pure chaos called "Earth"
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Re: Remnants of Cyre <Team Two>
Yezt, having finally overcome his shell-shock, follows the sound of Morris' voice and enters the room where he is exploring the attic. Curious, the goblin silently teleports into the curious room and also takes a look around, quickly searching the dusty boxes and furniture for any potentially useful things.
Search- (1d20+1)[20]
__________________ Many thanks to Ceika for the awesome avatar!
The boxes mostly contain old clothes, bed sheets, and various nic-nac type objects. However, there is a bag of dusty old coins and a folded entertainer's outfit that looks suprizingly brand new.
I had hoped there was a way to the roof or there was enough space for us to hide up until they zombies move on a bit. Then head out of town. The roof seems pretty strong so I am not sure we can punch a hole into it without giving away what we are doing. That was my plan. Do you got a better one?
__________________ Freeman Forest in Auromar, The Blasted Continent Mo In the Remnants of Cyre
If we ever get out of here as you suggest, my changeling friend, 'tis the court martial's mockery and hangman's noose I'll get for such cowardice... Maybe, maybe not... but... Ja'khaa's black brow furrows deep as he takes another swig at his brandy flask.
A noose...? His eyes narrow at the strange idea that has suddenly occured to him but his tongue blurts it out ere it is fully fleshed out.
"Have we any rope?" He says aloud, asking both everybody all at once and nobody in particular, all the while staring at where the zombies' thrashing is harshest.
__________________
Hey, you. Yes, you. Come on. SMILE.
The changeling makes himself visible to Morris, "How much room is up there? If we drag some food and drink up from the kitchen, maybe we can hole ourselves in until this all blows over. It's not much of a plan, but what else do we have?"
Spoiler
((OOC: Sorry for the lack of posting. I've just been waiting for something to react to.))
"I think we should all be able to fit. If need be we could extend the platform up here a bit with bits of the furniture. I agree that unless there is only 1 or 2 zombies left we are not going to be able to survive a direct fight. Maybe once it is full light out we can get a better idea of just how widespread the attack is. If nobody has any rope we might be able to tie some sheets together to make something to help the less agile get up. However, I am not sure how we would get a wolf up here."
__________________ Freeman Forest in Auromar, The Blasted Continent Mo In the Remnants of Cyre
"Bah, do we have a table? A table should be enough, methinks", Ja'khaa says, still looking out the window.
Turning back inside and glimpsing the holy symbol around the woman's neck, he withdraws his dagger from the floor, sheathes it, the takes the woman's hand and kisses it in token of gratitude.
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Hey, you. Yes, you. Come on. SMILE.
"It appears we are running out of time. Push the bed or anything over and start climbing. Someone very sure of their climb and jumping skills should be last because we do not want to leave what we use right bellow the entrance to give away where we went."
__________________ Freeman Forest in Auromar, The Blasted Continent Mo In the Remnants of Cyre
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Re: Remnants of Cyre <Team Two>
